When the blooming flower dies
by Muffins Planned
Summary: A short sad oneshot. Character death, and some heavy angst.


_When the blooming flower dies_

The wind was cold and bit his face, blew away all traces of tears, and he closed his eyes. His leg hurt more then it has ever done since the infarction, and all he wanted to do was disappear. He closed his eyes and her smile and sent filled his mind, and that made the feeling that this couldn't be happening worse. This coulnd't be happening. This had to be a dream? The wind that hurt his whole being didn't exist. The emptiness that clowded his mind was just his imagination. Nothing was real. This... this was all a dream.

"Greg" someone said softly behind him, but he wouldn't open his eyes to see the heartbreaking sight before him. "Greg" the voice was now whispering in his ear.

"Not now" came his gruff reply, and he wondered why he was still speaking. He heard the soft voice of the minister over the wind, and wondered for a second why they choosed to have it outside.

It suited his mood, the weather. It could've been clearblue, it could've been rainy, it could've been windstill, but it blowed, it blowed everything in his life away. Everything that mattered. He had started out with nothing, gaining something, left with less, and then given even more, just to take it away once again. Life was playing sick games with him, and he just couldn't bare it one more time, he couldn't loose again. He was a winner!!!

He opened his eyes, and looked over to the crowd of people, he didn't need them to tell him what he now didn't have, all he needed was his own cruel mind, the mind that could never give him a break, could never stop working just for a few seconds, not even at night. He had never had a full nights sleep his whole life. There used to be three people in the world who knew this... now there is only two, there were supposed to be five.

The murmur of voices and soft and loud cries dies out eventually, and the people dressed in black walk over the brown grass covered in leaves, and off to their cars, to continue their everyday life.

It's him, the wind, and them, and he is scared because this it really it, though it had been a long time ago.

_House... you have to get down here! Now! _

The voice of James filled his mind, how he urged him to get down, so upset, so demanding, so sad.

It had been nine days, and it didn't seem to get any easier, it didn't seem to go faster, but slower, everything was slowed down. Realising that he would have to let her go didn't help it. No. It only made it worse. He walked towards where the crowd had been before. A janitor was folding the chairs, and not so far away was another, trying to get rid of the leaves.

He hadn't been home for nine days, only breifly once. He was scared for what he would find- the left overs of a normal everyday familly, the room of his four year old son, and the nursery that would've been their daughters, it was just two months to the date that he would've seen his daughter. Jacob and Olivia, that was who they were, and never would be again.

He sighed. He burried three people he loved today. He burried his four year old son Jacob. He burried his daughter who hadn't even taken her first breathe. He burried his 39 year old fiancé Allison. He wished he had been burried with them.

_There's been a carcrash_

His mind played tricks on him, memory's flooded his mind.

_Allison and Jacob... they didn't make it_

The pause still hung in the air when he was standing in the graveyard.

_Olivia... no, I'm sorry_

He punched the tree next to Jacob's grave, and then kicked it with his good leg. He forced himself to remember the good times, when the got to together, but he was just scared then, when she first was pregnant, but he was scared then too, and all he remembered was feeling scared, and he hated himself, because now he never would feel real happiness.

_They died on the sceen..._

* * *

Just came to me, and I wrote it under 30 minutes... Hope you liked it. And I know all I write is angst, but being a teenager... that's pretty much the feeling you feel...


End file.
